Building Blocks
by malladay
Summary: In the aftermath of Carl's death, Rick and Michonne work to rebuild their community, their family, and themselves. Canon. Post 8x16. Includes speculation from graphic novel.
1. Chapter 1

AN: I wanted to continue _seed_ , but half of those characters are dead now, so I just decided to do a new story. : /

This will be a short series because I've got more a few things on my list I'd like to explore. Let me know if you have any that I may be able to work in. Also, I have no clue what age to write Judith, so I'm going with the age she looks on screen.

* * *

"Hey! Welcome back."

"Thanks," Michonne said as she stepped out of the yellow van she had just parked along the curb of the front entrance. "What are you doing out here?"

Siddiq shrugged, a garden hoe in one hand, and the other coming to his forehead to wipe his sweaty bangs out of his face. "Aside from a splinter here and there, nobody's in need of medical attention today, so I thought I'd help out."

Michonne smiled and nodded behind him towards where their fellow friends and neighbors were tilling the land of a now empty lot, turning destruction into what they hoped would be a flourishing garden of vegetables, herbs, and flowers. It would be a reminder, as Rick had told her one night as they walked hand in hand through the remains of their community, that _things break, but they can still grow_.

"Well, it's looking great." He walked along with her as she moved to the other side of the van, opening the door, and leaning in to unbuckle Judith from her carseat. "I brought back some more soil and seedlings," she pointed out as she hoisted Judith onto her hip, "and a few more tools on loan from Zeke and Carol."

"Great," he nodded. "We could use them."

"I'll leave the van here for you all to unload." She grabbed a burlap sack from the floor of the van and slung it over her shoulder, then held her hand above her eyes to shield the sun, and scanned the area for the man she was surprised hadn't surfaced to greet them yet. "Where's Rick?"

"Not sure. He said he had some other stuff to take care of."

"Oh OK."

She didn't think much of it, honestly, as she knew first-hand what their lengthy to-do list consisted of, so she waved goodbye then started to walk, taking a few steps before she smiled to herself and turned around.

"Hey Siddiq!"

He looked over his shoulder, already busy unpacking the van.

"Do you have dinner plans?"

His eyes widened and he shook his head no.

"You should stop by our house in about an hour."

A smile crept onto his lips, and he nodded. "I'll be there."

"Good," she nodded back, smiling as she turned to head back to her place, keeping her eyes peeled for Rick as she did.

There were no sightings of him until she reached their front porch. She walked up the steps to find his worn, mud encrusted boots sitting next to the front door, right beside where a welcome mat used to lie. There was a time she would have taken advantage of the rare opportunity to toss them in the garbage pile out back and feign ignorance when he asked what had happened, but not any longer. Not when they were one of the only things he still had from before; he could keep them and all of the good memories that went along with them for as long as he wanted. For now, she would just be grateful that they weren't tracking dirt through the house they were furiously trying to repair in their off hours.

She placed her hand on the doorknob, but paused to peek through the window first, curious as to just what he was up to.

"You think anybody's home?" she asked Judith as she bounced her on her hip. "Should we knock?"

The little girl nodded and Michonne moved closer to the door so she could wrap her balled up little hand against it. And within a few seconds, she could hear and feel the vibration of his feet against the hardwood.

"I hear someone!" she whispered excitedly.

Judith lips formed an _O_ and she covered her mouth with both hands as she giggled with excitement.

 _Who is it?_

They smiled at each other at the sound of their favorite guy's voice.

"Judith and Michonne!" she called out.

 _Who?_

Michonne could hear the teasing in his voice, but he had his little one pouting and puffing out her cheeks indignantly.

"Me and Mish!" she exclaimed.

"Who?" he repeated as he finally came into their view, smiling through the window.

"Daddy!"

"Oh, it's you two! Why didn't you say so?" he asked as he opened the door.

"We did!" Judith informed him, extending her arms reach out for her father as Michonne walked them into the house.

"Hi sweetheart," he cooed as he gathered her into his arms. He closed his eyes and hugged her tight. "I sure have missed you."

"Me too, Daddy."

"Did you miss me?" Michonne teased as she stood beside them watching their sweet reunion.

"I always do." He wrapped his free arm around her waist and pulled her into his embrace, as well. "Welcome back," he whispered into her ear just before he pressed a kiss against her cheek.

"Mmm, thank you," she grinned and shut her eyes, allowing herself to relax into his arms for a moment. If there was anything she had learned over the past couple of years, it was not to take these moments for granted. "It's good to be home."

"What took you so long? I was starting to get worried. I thought you were just going to the Kingdom and back."

Of course he had noticed, their half day trip had instead spanned a full day, but she couldn't quite explain why. Not just yet at least. "You know how it goes," she sighed. "We had to catch up Carol and Zeke, and then Jerry had to catch up with Judith. He took her for a pony ride this time," she informed him with with wide eyes, connoting the magnitude of this event for his daughter.

"You went on a pony?" he marveled.

"Yeah," Judith nodded enthusiastically.

"She absolutely loved it," Michonne noted as she watched them with a grin on her face. "She's a natural."

He looked up from Judith and smiled. "Like you."

Michonne grinned back. "Probably more like you."

He shrugged modestly, as if it wasn't him who had taught her everything she knew with a crash course on riding and caring for horses back at the prison. He leaned over to put Judith down, then returned his attention to Michonne and tugged on the burlap sack hanging from her shoulder.

"What's in the bag?"

"Nothing," she insisted as she twisted her body to get it out of his reach.

He looked down at his daughter. "Judith, what's she got in the bag?"

"You'll find out soon enough," Michonne answered before she could spill the beans. "Why don't you go get cleaned up while we get dinner started?"

He put his hands on his hips and looked down at his dirt-smudged white t-shirt, his _distressed_ , as Michonne liked to call them, black denim jeans, and fingernails with a thick layer of grime built up beneath them. She had a point, but he also felt like he was being kicked out of his own living room when all he wanted to do was catch up with his favorite ladies.

He slowly started to turn for the stairs. "OK…"

"Go!" Michonne laughed, noting his reluctance.

"Yeah! Go Daddy!" Judith exclaimed, shooing him away with a sweeping gesture of her hands.

"Fine," he huffed.

* * *

He finished pulling on a clean shirt then ran his hand through his damp curls to set them back in place, smiling to himself as he heard Michonne and Judith carrying on a conversation in the kitchen. He paused at the top of the stairs to listen in for a moment, unsure of if he was even allowed down their yet.

 _I don't know. What do you think?_

 _Good._

 _It doesn't look so good, but I'm sure it will taste good, and that's all that really matters, right?_

 _Yeah._

 _You're the best assistant ever you know that? You know that?_

He could hear Judith giggling at, what he imagined, was Michonne leaning in close to tickle her or wrap her in her arms for a quick squeeze. His smile began to fade, though, and he could feel his eyes welling up as they were prone to do these days. These moments were bittersweet. He could hear them having fun, but the absence of the one voice he wished with all his heart he could hear again was what became most noticeable. He wiped his eyes with the backs of his hands and took a deep breath, and forced a smile. It was a conscious effort most of the time, one that he hoped would become natural again with time.

"You ready for me?" he called out.

"Almost," Michonne called back, "but could you do me a favor and get a fire started out back?"

He furrowed his brow, but decided not to ask. "Sure."

"Thank you!"

"No problem," he called out as he walked down the stairs, mindful not to look toward the kitchen, before heading out the front door.

He walked around back and began to gather some firewood they had stacked up against the side of the house and tossed it in the small fire pit in their backyard, then went along the edge of the walls to gather up from pine needles and twigs for tinder, smarting about how he was gonna need another shower after he got through with this task.

Once he had enough, he kneeled down in front of the pit and started to arrange the wood, when he heard someone walking up behind him. He turned to see Siddiq rounding the corner, giving him a timid wave as he approached.

"Hey," Rick greeted.

"Hi." Siddiq came to a stop and stood there for a moment as Rick eyed him curiously. "Michonne said you were out back…" Rick stared back blankly. "She invited me over for dinner tonight."

"Oh," he nodded as he returned his attention to the fire.

"You, uh...you need any help?"

Rick sighed and stopped what he was doing, staring down at the pit as he felt Siddiq hanging behind him, waiting for an invitation or something. He couldn't blame the kid, really…

Well, not a kid at all. The man was probably pushing thirty by now, but he that boyish face and a sort of youthful idealism and naivete that was closer to his son's worldview than his own which is why he saw him in that way, he supposed. It was also why he found it so hard to be around him, and more often than not, gave the impression that he didn't care much for him.

Siddiq was a good man, a kind man. He was valuable community member already not just because of his medical knowledge, but for his willingness to roll up his sleeves and work hard alongside his new friends and neighbors to rebuild a community he'd never had the benefit of enjoying for himself yet.

The problem wasn't with Siddiq at all, it was that he would always be inextricably linked to Carl in his mind which was far too painful, but it was something that he knew he would have to overcome.

"I got sent out here to build a fire," Rick explained. "Haven't had to do this in a while, so you're probably faster at it than I am these days," he said, seeing as how Siddiq had been living "out there" when he encountered Carl.

"Yeah," Siddiq supposed as he walked around and took a knee opposite of Rick. "I did have a lighter that happened to work really well, though," he admitted sheepishly.

Rick looked up and chuckled softly. "Yeah, we still have a few of those around, but I don't like to waste them if I don't need to."

"Understandable.".

"You weren't a Boy Scout, were you?"

"No sir," he answered. "Math league."

"Nothin' wrong with that," Rick assured him. "And you don't need to call me sir. Rick is fine."

"Sure," Siddiq nodded.

Rick pulled a small tin from his back pocket and opened it to reveal a piece of flint and a steel bar. He offered it up to Siddiq and figured now was as good a time as any to teach him the way. He never planned on them being back out there again, but just in case…

"Just hold it close to the pile, and bang the flint against the steel a few times until it sparks."

"Easy enough," he said as he started, a bit too delicately at first, but with increasing force until he got that spark.

"There you go," Rick said as he watched the a flame take shape in the pit.

Siddiq went to hand the tools back to him, but Rick declined, and offered up the case to him instead.

"We have a few of these, so you keep it."

"Thanks," Siddiq said, raising it before putting it into his pocket.

Rick nodded and got up to drag some chairs over to the fire, and Siddiq took his cue and did the same.

"So what's for dinner?" he asked, figuring it was safe to keep up the small talk since Rick had initiated it.

"Damned if I know. It's a surprise apparently."

"Is she a good cook?"

"Pretty good," Rick allowed with a smile as he plopped down into a chair.

"I mean, she seems all around awesome at everything, so…" Siddiq clarified as he took a seat, as well.

"Yeah, that's Michonne for ya," Rick grinned.

And before he could elaborate on one of his favorite topics, the back door flung open and Judith came bounding onto the front porch with what looked like a wire rack from their now useless oven in her hands. Just as Rick was about to stand to investigate, Michonne appeared behind her balancing a large, wooden cutting board on her hands.

"Looks good!" she noted of the fire as she leaned down and ushered Judith down the steps instructing her to hand the rack to her father.

Rick took the grate in his hands, and strained his neck to take a peek at what Michonne was carrying.

"I have no idea how this is going to turn out, but," she lowered the cutting board to his eye level and finally revealed the dinner she and Judith had prepared, "we're having pizza tonight."

Rick raised his eyes from the oblong strip of raw dough dotted with crushed red tomatoes and white curds of cheese and looked up at Michonne who was staring back at him expectantly. He was speechless, but he didn't need to say anything. They both knew not only what this was, but how important it was. _Friday Night Pizza._ He blinked a few times to clear his eyes of the tears that had started to form, then nodded, and put on that smile.

"Looks amazing," he declared.

Michonne smiled back with relief and moved to the chair beside him while he swept Judith off her feet and into his lap.

"Somebody's never had pizza before," Rick explained for Siddiq's benefit.

"Oh man," he exclaimed rubbing his hands together in front of him. "This is a big day," he said, smiling at Judith.

"It is," Michonne agreed. "Baby's first pizza," she quipped quietly to Rick.

"Baby's first pizza," he repeated with a laugh.

They had missed so many of her actual milestones along the way, that it didn't seem silly to celebrate this one, especially not when it had come at the request of her big brother.

* * *

The sun had set, but the last of fire was still glowing in front of them. The only remains of dinner were a few empty plates sitting on the ground and a dried splotch of red sauce crusted on Judith's cheek. Siddiq had left at least an hour ago, citing a long day and early morning that were calling him to turn in early. Judith had turned in early, as well, falling asleep against her father's chest as he and Michonne lounged in quiet of their backyard, their hands dangling between their chairs and loosely clasped.

"That pizza was actually pretty good," he said quietly, so as not to wake Judith.

"It was definitely better than I thought it'd be."

"How'd you pull that off?"

"They had been making bread at the Sanctuary for a while, so they taught some people at the Kingdom, and I asked them to teach me today. Hopefully we can get that started here soon."

"Hopefully," he agreed. "Carl would be proud."

She smiled and felt the her eyes sting with tears. She had almost made it through the entire day. _Almost._

"I'm sure he is," she agreed as she squeezed Rick's hand tighter in hers.

"You know this means we have to do this every Friday now, right? It is a traditional after all."

"I knew what I was getting myself into. I'm game."

He smiled back at her, easily this time. They had good moments and, of course, just as many bad recently, but they were trying. And trying together which made all the difference in the world. When one was down, the other would be up. He honestly didn't know how he would have made it through this without her.

He tucked his chin to his chest and kissed Judith's head then began to laugh softly as he thought of how quickly she had wolfed down her slice of pizza and went back for seconds and then tried to lift some from his and Michonne's plates. She was certainly game for bringing back this tradition. Considering that she had grown up on canned goods and applesauce, this was probably the greatest thing she had ever tasted in her life. He couldn't wait to introduce her to things like cake and ice cream one of these days.

Almost as if she could hear him thinking too loudly, she began to stir and fuss in his arms. He tried to soothe her back to sleep, but she wasn't having it.

"What's wrong?" he cooed. "You want your mom?"

Michonne was startled out of her lazy stargazing by his choice of words.

 _Mom_.

She met his eyes as he lifted Judith from his lap to transfer her to Michonne's. She sat still, staring back at him, causing doubt to creep in on his part.

"What?"

"You called me Mom," she answered.

"Well that's who you are," he answered simply. "I'm Dad. You're Mom. And she's ours."

"She's ours," Michonne agreed quietly as she took her into her arms.

The child instantly quieted once in her lap and curled up in her arms, content to drift off again. She kissed her head and looked up at Rick who was watching them with adoration. Of course she knew that she was Judith's mother and that Rick regarded her as such, but it was just one of those things they hadn't gotten around to changing yet. _Mish_ would soon become _Mom,_ and that felt more right with her. She honestly couldn't wait to hear those words again.

"You know, you're not the only one with surprises today."

"No?" she asked, peering at him over her daughter's golden curls.

"No."

He stood and put out the remains of the fire, leaving her to wonder what exactly he had up his sleeve, then turned and held out his hand to help her out of her chair.

"Let's put her down, and then I'll show you."

She grabbed his hand and smiled up at him, then allowed him to help her up and lead her inside.


	2. Chapter 2

"She's getting so big."

Rick tilted his head to get a different vantage point. It wasn't just the angle; not long ago, their daughter looked like a tiny little bean all curled up in the center of her crib as she slept, now a laid there, toes nearly touching the bars at one end and head nearly touching the other.

He recognized Michonne's gentle admonishment that it was past time to move her out of the small alcove that was her bedroom and into the empty room next door that once belonged to her brother. They had talked about it before, but didn't seem to mind letting other projects and distractions take precedence over the past few weeks.

"Yeah, I know," he sighed.

He reached down and smoothed his hand over her curls and and draped her light yellow blanket over her then placed his hand on Michonne's back as they stood there looking looking down on her. After a moment, he felt a small rumble of laughter in her chest.

"She's still wearing her dinner," she pointed out of the red tomato cause crusted around her lips.

She moved to wipe it with the pad of her thumb, but he reached out and stilled her hand.

"She'll be fine," he assured her with a slight grin. "Not worth waking the monster."

Michonne smiled back as she withdrew her hand. Why trade a sleeping child for a cranky one? It was Parenting 101.

"You're right."

They continued standing there, quiet and still. This was always how all of their days ended since Carl passed. Grief was exhausting, but trying to move on was even more so, but it was imperative not just for themselves, but for everyone around them.

As parents, it was easiest to put on a brave face for Judith. They would smile, laugh, play as if everything was fine, anything to preserve her happiness and innocence for as long as they could.

As leaders, they woke up day in and day out and put in the back breaking work to not only rebuild what they had lost, but expand on what they had. With the livelihood of not just their family, but so many others at stake, there were no days off.

As lovers, however, they hadn't regained what they had lost. At the end of the day, they would retreat to their room, drained with little else left for each other. They would clean up, discuss plans for the following day, exchange a kiss and I love you's, say their good nights, and lay down on the layered blankets on their floor that served as a bed. It was the only time in their day where they could give into their grief, where they didn't have to put up a strong front for the sake of others.

It wasn't just fatigue, though, not on his part, at least. There was a crushing sense of guilt that nearly extinguished any desire he had to experience pleasure for himself, and intimacy with Michonne was the most pleasurable act he could possibly engage in.

Just a month ago, they would shirk responsibilities to spend a few more minutes in bed together or sneak off together for a brief rendez-vous in the middle of the day or a run. It was absolutely exhilarating, the most alive you could possibly feel. In the wake of other losses, that was the how they were able to keep going. With Carl, though, it was hard to unabashedly celebrate life in the wake of this loss.

It couldn't be like this forever, and they both knew this, life would eventually have to return to normal, or at least a new normal, on all fronts. If they waited for the mood to strike them, he supposed they could be waiting for a long time. All he knew was, Michonne was the love of his life, and their relationship was the most important thing in his life, and they needed to nourish it and each other, especially when it's strength was central to everything else around them.

"C'mon."

She looked up and he took her hand and nodded toward the door, gently leading her out of the room. They passed the closed door of Carl's bedroom and arrived at their own. They came to a stop, and Rick took both of her hands in his.

"I did a little scavenging of my own today," he informed her quietly. "I guess we were kind of thinking the same thing today…"

She smiled as they had a tendency to do that. It was one of the reasons they worked so well together, after all.

"You telling me there's a chocolate cake waiting in there for me?" she teased gently.

He shook his head, and chuckled softly. "No, hopefully you won't be disappointed now."

She squeezed his hand and shook her head. "Never." she promised. "Not with you."

He smiled inwardly at her unwavering faith in him, then grasped the knob and opened the door. Her eyes widened and she looked up at him with genuine surprise. He led her into the room, then allowed to her go on while he quietly closed the door behind them. She stood there looking at the full-sized boxspring and mattress that sat in the center of the room where their makeshift bed used to be.

"Where did you find this?"

"Attic of one of the townhouses," he said as he joined her. "I know it's not as nice as our old one, but it's something," he shrugged. "And I know there's a long line of people here who need one, but with the way you've been taking care of me and Judith and everyone else, I thought you of all people deserved to have a soft place to land at night."

She looked up at him, her lips formed into a tight grin and her eyes watering. She cupped his cheek with her hand and shook her head.

"I have one," she whispered back.

He closed his eyes tightly and lowered his forehead against hers.

"Yeah, we do."

"I love you," she breathed out.

"I love you, too."

She lifted her head and pressed a soft kiss against his lips, then began to pull away, but he brought his hand to her cheek to stop her. He met her eyes and then leaned in to kiss her again, this time, his lips parting against her, as he deepened their contact. He could hear and feel her softly sigh into his mouth, becoming pliant in his arms as she did. Soon her arms were around his neck, pulling them closer together.

Need.

There was no other way to describe their intensifying touches and kisses aside from sheer need to feel close to one another again. Their movements were not frantic, rather slow and deliberate. Weeks of tender hugs and chaste kisses that led nowhere now had them falling onto their bed, passionately kissing as their legs entwined and arms wrapped around each other. He rolled them from their sides, onto her back and began to kiss her cheek, then neck as she ran her hands down his back and under the edge of his jeans, grasping the pert tops of his buttocks to draw him closer to her.

All she had been thinking about was getting closer to him, physically closer than they had been in weeks, but with that she began to feel the arousing effects of that closeness, his hardness pressing against her thigh and the warmth and ache in her center, and it gave her pause.

"Rick," she breathed out as she moved her hands up his back and braced the back of his neck.

His lips stilled against her skin and he lifted his head from her chest to meet her eyes, narrowed and questioning.

"You OK?" he asked.

She gave a slight nod yes. "Are you OK?"

"Yeah," he nodded. "This is OK," he assured her.

And to prove his point, he leaned back in to capture her lips with his then resume his slow reunion with her body. As his lips trailed down her chest and her tank top came creeping up and eventually off so that he could have access to more and more of her, he hands returned to his body and began to tug at his t-shirt.

With so many thoughts running through her head and conflicting feelings in her heart that felt betrayed by the eager reaction of her body, she decided to focus on just one thing.

She loved this man with every part of her being; mind, body, and soul and tonight they were honoring that and each other.

And so they made love. Luxuriating in the slow strokes and languid kisses, breathing each other in, declaring their love and devotion to another in hushed whispers and strangled gasps as they moved toward release together.

Once they reached their peak, they stilled in each others arms, breathless, as they found ecstasy with release and comfort in each other. After several seconds, he eased himself onto her, covering her like a blanket as she wrapped her arms and legs around him to try to do the same. He pressed his face into the curve of her neck, dusting it with light kisses.

"I've missed you," he murmured into her skin.

"I've missed you, too." She pressed her lips against his temple emphatically. "We're going to be OK."

"We are," he corrected. "We are."


End file.
